Read Online Ember - the Sandstone Affair Part 2 by Priscilla West - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Priscilla West
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having my lawyer get a statement is the smartest way to go about this.
Screw smart. I’m done with that. Grabbing my keys, I storm out the door and on my way to Sandstone Ventures.
“I demand to see Blake Stone,” I tell the receptionist through gritted teeth.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I doubt Mr. Stone will see you without an appointment,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Oh, he has an appointment alright,” I say almost conning her with my fake sweetness until she pulls up his schedule. “An appointment with my fists!”
I dodge past the girl and run down the hall, turning instinctively towards Mark’s office when I realize I’m going the wrong way. Mark and Blake don’t get along very well and have offices on opposite sides of the building. Mark’s office is dim, no lights. Turning, I run right into a burly security guard. The receptionist must have called him. He reaches out to block my way.
“I need you to settle down, Ma’am.” He says in a patient, professional tone.
“Blake!” I scream loud enough to wake the dead. “Blake Stone! Face me like a man and tell me to my face that I’m negligent, you slimy rat!”
“Ma’am!” The guard tries to shout over me. Clerks and administrators pour out of the offices to see the spectacle in the hallway.
“Blake Stone!” The guard calls for backup and a second security officer walks into the hallway giving me firm and clear commands to stand down. Everyone is staring, talking, yelling, swirling around in front of me.
Then there is silence.
I hear an oily, drawling voice. “It’s alright. Let her go. I’ll be glad to see Miss Sharp in my office.”
At the sound of Blake’s voice, all the clerks scurry back to their desks and the guards back away. I’m sure he enjoys the power his position gives him. Even though he and Mark were left as partners in the firm when their father passed away, Blake has always needed the power more. He’s shorter than Mark with darker hair and beady eyes that never seem to close all the way, even when he blinks. No matter what the price of his suit, he always seems ill-dressed as if his own clothes were rejecting him or embarrassed to be seen on him. He holds out a pudgy hand and motions me toward his office.
“Stay in the hall outside my door,” Blake fake-whispers in a loud, breathy hiss. “I know she’s clearly a bit unhinged, but I’m hopeful she’s not dangerous.”
I walk past him into his office. He turns to his assistant positioned right outside the door.
“Call Kenneth Allen and get him to come down. Have him wait out here with the guards. I want to make sure he has visual evidence of this visit as an officer of the court.”
I enter Blake’s cave-like office, so different from the other side of the hall. Mark’s office is neat and tidy with an efficient business-like atmosphere. Blake’s looks like a file cabinet had too much to eat and vomited folders and documents all over the room. Books half-open, a Mont Blanc fountain pen dripping ink on a financial statement, and his personal shredder overflowing with paper strips reveal the chaos he both lives in, and creates.
“Can’t afford an office service?”” I ask bitterly as I sit down.
“I don’t like anyone in my private space,” he says slowly and carefully as he slides behind his desk. His chair is lifted higher than mine -- an old power trick that only fools the person who thinks it gives them power. “I also don’t care for people shouting my business down the hall.”
“You accused me of being negligent and incompetent. What’s the matter? Don’t want your lies shouted out for the world to hear?”
“Miss Sharp. I didn’t accuse you of anything. Your employment was terminated via section 6, Paragraph 3, Subsection C which stipulates to whit that if your property is collapsed or otherwise merged into the superstructure of the corporate entity and reasonable placement cannot be secured within the
Screw smart. I’m done with that. Grabbing my keys, I storm out the door and on my way to Sandstone Ventures.
“I demand to see Blake Stone,” I tell the receptionist through gritted teeth.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I doubt Mr. Stone will see you without an appointment,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Oh, he has an appointment alright,” I say almost conning her with my fake sweetness until she pulls up his schedule. “An appointment with my fists!”
I dodge past the girl and run down the hall, turning instinctively towards Mark’s office when I realize I’m going the wrong way. Mark and Blake don’t get along very well and have offices on opposite sides of the building. Mark’s office is dim, no lights. Turning, I run right into a burly security guard. The receptionist must have called him. He reaches out to block my way.
“I need you to settle down, Ma’am.” He says in a patient, professional tone.
“Blake!” I scream loud enough to wake the dead. “Blake Stone! Face me like a man and tell me to my face that I’m negligent, you slimy rat!”
“Ma’am!” The guard tries to shout over me. Clerks and administrators pour out of the offices to see the spectacle in the hallway.
“Blake Stone!” The guard calls for backup and a second security officer walks into the hallway giving me firm and clear commands to stand down. Everyone is staring, talking, yelling, swirling around in front of me.
Then there is silence.
I hear an oily, drawling voice. “It’s alright. Let her go. I’ll be glad to see Miss Sharp in my office.”
At the sound of Blake’s voice, all the clerks scurry back to their desks and the guards back away. I’m sure he enjoys the power his position gives him. Even though he and Mark were left as partners in the firm when their father passed away, Blake has always needed the power more. He’s shorter than Mark with darker hair and beady eyes that never seem to close all the way, even when he blinks. No matter what the price of his suit, he always seems ill-dressed as if his own clothes were rejecting him or embarrassed to be seen on him. He holds out a pudgy hand and motions me toward his office.
“Stay in the hall outside my door,” Blake fake-whispers in a loud, breathy hiss. “I know she’s clearly a bit unhinged, but I’m hopeful she’s not dangerous.”
I walk past him into his office. He turns to his assistant positioned right outside the door.
“Call Kenneth Allen and get him to come down. Have him wait out here with the guards. I want to make sure he has visual evidence of this visit as an officer of the court.”
I enter Blake’s cave-like office, so different from the other side of the hall. Mark’s office is neat and tidy with an efficient business-like atmosphere. Blake’s looks like a file cabinet had too much to eat and vomited folders and documents all over the room. Books half-open, a Mont Blanc fountain pen dripping ink on a financial statement, and his personal shredder overflowing with paper strips reveal the chaos he both lives in, and creates.
“Can’t afford an office service?”” I ask bitterly as I sit down.
“I don’t like anyone in my private space,” he says slowly and carefully as he slides behind his desk. His chair is lifted higher than mine -- an old power trick that only fools the person who thinks it gives them power. “I also don’t care for people shouting my business down the hall.”
“You accused me of being negligent and incompetent. What’s the matter? Don’t want your lies shouted out for the world to hear?”
“Miss Sharp. I didn’t accuse you of anything. Your employment was terminated via section 6, Paragraph 3, Subsection C which stipulates to whit that if your property is collapsed or otherwise merged into the superstructure of the corporate entity and reasonable placement cannot be secured within the
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